You Learn
by Graveygraves
Summary: Emily turns forty and faces the worse year of her life. Rated M purly for second chapter - skip it if you like. Unbeta'd please let me know what you think.
1. You Live

**You Learn**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**This is a little Emily centric idea I had while listening to the song 'You Learn' by Alanis Morisette. This is set during Season 6 – so anyone who hasn't seen the series this may contain spoilers.**

**. . .**

**You live, you learn**

**. . . **

Emily sighed. She was not looking forward to the evening ahead of her. Not one bit. When it came to time spent with her mother two words lead to successful interactions: rare and rapid. The less often they spoke the better they got on, and on the occasion it was necessary to communicate with her mother, she preferred to keep it short and sweet.

However tonight was another matter; Elizabeth Prentiss was having a 'small' cocktail party for her daughter's 40th birthday. _As if I want the world to know,_ Emily huffed to herself as she continued to get ready.

Applying her make-up carefully, as she knew she would be under scrutiny, Emily tried to think of anything but the barrage of snide comments and remarks her mother would make through the course of the evening. _At least she had the team to hide behind when it all got too much._

She had considered roping Morgan or Reid into playing the role of her boyfriend, but decided that in the long run it would be more hassle then it was worth. Neither would be good enough in her mother's eyes. Emily had long ago learnt not to play such games with her mother.

So Emily was braving it alone, well at least the arrival.

Standing Emily took one last swig out of the large glass of wine she had poured herself earlier. She looked herself up and down. She was wearing a scarlet figure hugging strapless dress, admittedly when Pen helped her pick it she had been a little unsure. However now she thought about it, her mother would be horrified. Just the look she was aiming for. Forty, smorty – she didn't even look close, on a good day! She laughed, admiring her view.

Okay, so maybe she wasn't exactly where she wanted to be in life, but she couldn't complain. Not really.

Part of her wanted desperately to be a mother, different to her own, but a mother none the less. It was simple wish, but one that continued to elude Emily, due to one small detail that preceded it: a boyfriend that lasted longer than five minutes.

But that one issue aside she had accomplished so much, mainly at her mother's annoyance, which made it all the sweeter.

She was a Supervisory Special Agent in the FBI's elite BAU tem. She was respected by her colleague; who over the years, had become much more than purely friends. She may not have her conventional dream family, but she sure as hell had an amazing substitute.

. . .

Emily hesitated getting out of the cab at her mother's plush residence; taking a deep breath she composed herself for the up and coming onslaught of veiled insults.

"You okay?" the cabby asked.

"Fine, thank you," she said, practising her own take on her mother's ambassadorial smile.

As she ascended the steps to her mother's personal residence, Emily's smile fixed.

Barely one step in Elizabeth Prentiss pounced.

"Well there is nothing like cutting it fine," She muttered, kissing her daughter on both cheeks.

"Mother, I am early," Emily responded.

"Not by my standards," Elizabeth cut as she turned to lead her daughter through to the hall.

Emily stood for a moment open mouthed, before she followed, obediently.

"Now Emily I have invited several people I would like you to meet," Elizabeth spoke without looking at her daughter.

Never in her life had she so wished for an emergency recall to FBI headquarters. _Please._

"Peter is the son of Ambassador Holmes. Charming young man, I have no idea why he is still single, as he is such a catch. You'll love him."

"Really," Emily said flatly, looking round desperately for someone who may get her a drink.

"Then there is Michael, not my type, a bit too 'action hero' for me, but that's your sort of thing I figured. He's a Major. A little younger then you, but I hear that's fashionable now a days."

Emily rolled her eyes; within five minutes of being in her mother's company all her nightmares were coming true. It was moments like this that she suddenly had an empathy with the killers she hunter.

"Emily, are you listening to a word I am saying?" Elizabeth spun to face her only daughter.

_Not if I can help it;_ "Yes of course mother?" she smiled sweetly.

Elizabeth glared.

"Emily you may well be forty, but you are still my little girl, at least until you are capable of proving you are a woman."

"Sorry," Emily spluttered, "Proving what?"

"Emily, when are you going to grow up and stop playing James Bond? There is more to life then a career. You need a husband and a family. I need Grandchildren."

"This coming from the Ambassador," Emily snorted.

"I may be an Ambassador, but I am a wife and mother too. You can have it all, you just have to make a little more effort," Elizabeth tutted.

"Effort, I'll bear that in mind," Emily bit her tongue, resisting the urge to explain to her mother exactly what she thought of Elizabeth's maternal role in her life.

. . .

Sneaking into the middle of the huddle of her friends Emily sighed. Looking around the overtly familiar faces, she had to chuckle with them.

"If you see my mother approaching this direction, hide me and swear you have not seen me for over an hour. It's that or one of you get ready to arrest me for murder."

"Emily," David Rossi smirked, "Whatever is the problem? You mother is truly delightful."

"Only if you are comparing her to Strauss," Emily spun to face him, "Compare her to a normal person and she is the devil incarnate."

"Emily you mean you're not interested in the charming _young_ man you mother just introduced?" JJ giggled at her friend's situation.

"Jay there is young and there is young enough to make Reid look mature," Emily answered.

Spencer Reid turned to look, not understanding what Emily was talking about.

"Is there any way we can split, I have just about had enough," Emily moaned.

Everyone shook the heads. There was no way they were facing the wrath of Elizabeth Prentiss for their role in the illicit escape of her only child from the lavish party.

Emily vowed if she lived through this experience, she would learn one lesson – never to ever be available at her mother's 'events' ever again.


	2. You Love

**You Learn**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**This is a little Emily centric idea I had while listening to the song 'You Learn' by Alanis Morisette. This is set during Season 6 – This chapter is M-rated for a reason!**

**Sorry meant to post this last night but didn't manage it. Thank you for the interest and especially to LoveforPenandDerek for the review.  
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**. . .**

**You love, You learn**

**. . .**

"Mmmm" Emily mumbled, "Oh that's soooo good."

She screwed her eyes shut: trying to let her other senses rule her as she enjoyed the moment.

"Yes," she smiled, as she imagined him there with her.

The reality was that Emily was dreaming. Dreaming the sweetest of fantasies; that involved her co-worker and her doing all sorts of unimaginable things to each other.

_Tonight he had her pinned down to the conference room table as he nipped at her neck. And God was it good._

_Breathing deeply, she could smell his masculine scent; he oozed it from every pore. She wanted so badly to get her hands on his perfectly toned abs, but he was holding her down, enjoying the power over her. She could see it in his eyes; that were watching her intently._

_It was rare that she wore anything other than pants at work, but on this occasion she had a deep burgundy wrap dress on. Easily he pushed her further up the table, as his lips worked down the v shaped neckline of her dress. Each of his kisses scorching her skin._

"_Derek, what if we get caught?" she whispered, not really caring if they were._

"_There is no-one here, Princess," his deep voice murmured into her chest, "I made sure of that."_

_Working his way tantalisingly slowing, getting to the tie, at her narrow waist, that held the dress together. Using his teeth and only his teeth Derek undid the dress, swiping it aside to place the first kiss on her newly exposed skin._

_Moving back up her abdomen she wriggled, trying to free herself from his gasp, longing to help him out of his shirt._

"_U-huh," he teased, "Oh no you don't honey, and I haven't finished with you yet. In fact I'm only just getting started."_

_He smiled wickedly, a glint in his eyes as his head dipped down to nibble her already erect nipples through the smooth fabric of her bra._

"_Shhhh," she moaned, pushing herself up into him._

_Releasing his grip on her forearms, Derek pulled her up swiftly into his arms, as he stood. Before Emily could comprehend what was happening, her dress was in a heap on the floor and Derek was consuming her in a passionate kiss. Their tongues collided repeatedly as he managed to undo her bra._

_As he removed the item, Derek took a step back admiring the view._

As Emily lay in her bed enjoying the image her mind had created she let her finger lift the light cotton vest top she was wearing and begun to massage her breast as Derek was in her dream.

_Coming to her senses, Emily took the chance to remove Derek's shirt, button by button she undid it, pulling it out of his pants and discarding it. Making her way to his neck, she was rewarded with a deep guttered growl as she bit and nipped her way down his body, desperately trying to make it clear that she was as hungry for him as he was for her._

_Effortlessly Derek lifted her onto the table once more. Emily was quick to wrap her legs around him, drawing him close, moaning in his ear as she felt his straining erection nudge against her very core._

_Gently leaning her back against the table Derek teased his way down her, licking, sucking, and nibbling as he went. Stopping only to demonstrate on her nipples what his tongue would soon be doing further down her body._

Emily allowed her other hand to move below the waistband of her PJ bottom. Stroking herself slowly as her mind continues to play.

_Lazily his tongue danced round the edge of her panties. So near yet so far. Emily could feel the frustration build in her, as he continued to skirt around rather than delve into her hidden treasures. _

Frustrated Emily wriggled and kicked off her PJ pants, wanting to satisfy the urge she had.

_As she wriggled under his torment, Derek begun to work the final garment further down. Realising what he was doing, Emily untangled herself from him, making his task all the easier._

"_Anyone would think you are getting a little impatient Princess."_

"_You could say that," Emily said, entwining her legs around him once more._

Emily's fingers found her swollen bud and circled it slowly, letting her mind imagine Derek doing the same with his tongue, and the fantasy wasn't disappointing.

_Derek's head dipped between Emily's legs, his tongue delving into her folds. Emily struggled, trying to get purchase on the edge of the table, wanting to find a way to grind herself into him in a vain attempt to control the pressure._

Emily had the perfect way to control the pressure at the tip of her fingers, and she did. Increasing her touch directly on her overtly sensitive clit, "Oh God, Derek more, please, more," she groaned, completely trapped in her mind's game.

_Derek complied, devouring her until she was screaming his name. While she was still riding the high brought on by her strong orgasm, Derek plunged into her, enjoying the aftershocks of her pleasure. His rigid length filling her as she wrapped her legs around his waist, trying to match him thrust for thrust._

Emily's fingers were dipping into her wet centre, curling round to find the very spot she know would have her screaming once more. "Fuck, Derek, that feels so good."

"_Mmm, I know, Baby, I know, I'm feeling it too," he moaned, increasing the pace as he felt them both build to the climax._

Relaxing on her bed Emily smiled, letting her eyes open to the sparse reality of being alone in the middle of the night. Getting herself off on raunchy thoughts of her colleague and friend was no substitute for the after effect of falling asleep in the arms of the man you loved.

Emily would never admit it, but that was the one thing she really missed in her life. Yes Ms Independent wanted a man, but she was worried she could never learn to love.

. . .

As she sat at the conference room table, coffee in hand, Emily begun to flick through the information in front of her.

Looking up she registered the arrival of Derek Morgan. She tried hard not to blush in his mere presence as her memory reminded her of the thoughts she had had last night of him, her and this very table. _God I need to get laid – soon._

_. . ._

**~*~ Profiler's Choice 2011 Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds Community ~*~**

**Hosted by ilovetvalot and tonnie2001969**

_It is our pleasure to announce the Second Annual Profiler's Choice Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds community! _

_The nomination ballot is now available, and all rules are posted on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum! Nomination ballots must be received by October 15, 2011 and must be sent to this PM at Profiler's Choice CM Awards. Fics for consideration must have appeared on the CM section of between September 1, 2010 and August 31, 2011 (see rules for full details.)_


	3. You Cry

**You Learn**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**I have a new poll running on my profile - cast a vote and let me know what you think.  
><strong>

**This is a little Emily centric idea I had while listening to the song 'You Learn' by Alanis Morisette. This is set during Season 6 and has used the wording from the show for Derek/Emily's comment and Penelope Garcia's voicemail to Emily.**

**. . .**

**You Cry, You Learn**

**. . . **

Entering the back of the bull pen, Emily made her way through the edge of the crowd. Planting herself behind Morgan, Emily was feeling marginally more composed then she had moments before.

Emily had never been melodramatic, but honestly right now her world was falling apart around her. Brick by brick the walls crumbled. The ground shook, as another part came crashing down, a huge crack opening up in front her, ready to swallow her whole.

Emily tried hard to focus on Hotch's words, anything but the taunting despair of the situation she was facing. Hotch's words soon blurred, no-one knew Doyle like her, she should be up there, telling everyone exactly what sort of monster they were facing. Hotch had no idea, he was merely scratching the tip of the iceburg.

Doyle wasn't some run of the mill family annihilator. He was a man hell-bend on revenge and he was rapidly targeting in on the root of his anger: Emily Prentiss.

Looking down, the metaphorical crack widened, and Emily knew he was coming, coming for her.

Desperately searching those who surrounded her, trying to delay the decision a little longer, she caught a glance of Seaver. God, she wanted to run over to her grab her a shake her. Tell her to get the ridiculous idea of being an FBI agent out of her head. To walk away while she still had a life. Seaver had lived in the shadow of one serial killer, she needed to cut her loses while she was still ahead. Seaver was bright, she could do anything she wanted, not waste it here.

Turning away from the young cadet, she glimpsed David Rossi; Emily couldn't help the little sigh that escaped her lips. If there was one person that would understand, it would be him. He wouldn't show his anger, his disappointment. He would openly judge her, not if she confessed all now. He would accept and help her, as she was, faults and all. But Emily had gone too far, she couldn't burden him now.

Then Hotch, her stoic leader; driven, determined and relentless, he is the one person who should truly understand what it is like to be hunted. Surely he would appreciate the lengths she would go to, to protect her family from the same fate that he had faced with Foyet.

Struggling once more to contain the tears that seemed to constantly be threatening to fall, Emily's gaze settle on the board blank back of Derek Morgan.

Derek shifted, as if he had felt her eyes fall onto him, turning he whispered; "You good?"

Nodding slightly, initially not trusting her voice, Emily finally managed a near silent; "I'm good."

She hated the lies more than anything, and Derek was the one person she had lied to more than any. Repeatedly he had tried to help her, prove he was there for her. Yet she had repeatedly knocked back his support, preferring to face this alone. Emily was painfully aware how her actions would shatter his trust, the very trust she had worked so hard to gain. Emily wanted nothing more than to have him alongside her on this one. He could keep her safe; she could draw from his strength. The problem was he would also take the bullet for her if it came to it, and that she couldn't live with.

Looking anywhere but at her partner, her friend, Emily's eyes rested on Reid, listening intently to Hotch's briefing. It was becoming harder by the second to maintain her composure.

She knew there was no way on this Earth that Reid would ever understand her actions; that by walking away she may lose him forever. Biting her lip, focusing on the pain rather than her dear friend, Emily's gaze shifted slightly to the left, only to collide with the clash of colours that was Penelope Garcia.

A lump rose in Emily's throat, at this moment she would like nothing more than to bathe in the rays of sunshine that usually emitted from her ever-cheerful friend. But the deep dark grey storm clouds that were rolling into the bullpen had managed to eclipse Pen's bright glow.

Stepping, near stumbling, backwards Emily had to face the truth. She had created this storm, many, many years ago. She was responsible for bringing it here, hovering over her friends, waiting for the opportunity to break and drench them all.

Turning Emily walked with renewed determination; it was time to face the eye of the storm.

. . .

Emily sat and waited, patience was her only company.

She knew _he_ was in there; relaxing, enjoying himself, laughing and joking with his friends. While she was miles away and alone, hoping that she could defend the very friends she missed.

Hearing the quietened beep of the phone in her pocket, she gave in and looked at the screen.

The white words, stark against the blue backlight of her Blackberry:

Voice Mail from Penelope Garcia

Pausing a moment, Emily considered was there anywhere that she could hide without Pen's magic routing her out. With a press of a button, Emily decided to listen to the message. _What harm could it do now?_

"Hey it's me." The breathless voice of Pen came through the phone, as Emily lifted it to her ear.

"Hotch asked me to try all your numbers and I have. This is an old listing and you probably don't use it anymore, but if you do and you're out there. Come home, please."

Emily could hear the desperation in the last few words. Tears once more filled her eyes, which she didn't think was possible after the amount she had cried on her way to Boston. She should learn that despair was a bottomless pit.

"God, Emily, what did you think? That we would just let you walk out of lives. I am so furious with you right now."

The anger in Pen's voice shocked Emily, that wasn't who she had expected from, not Pen.

Hearing Pen's voice calm a little, "Then I think about how scared you must be. Hiding out in some dark place, all alone, but you are not alone, okay, you are not alone. We are in that dark place with you."

Emily sighed as she realised the meaning of those words, that her actions would not stop them, as she had hoped. The team may not be physically with her, not yet. But how long would it take to track her down, they were probably tracing this phone right now. She knew how good they were, they would find her.

The pitch of Pen voice began to rise, and she could hear it start to crack; "We are waving flashlights and calling your name, so if you can see us, come home, but if you can't, then," Emily struggled to fight the tears, as Pen's message paused, both trying to maintain control, "then you stay alive, because we're coming."

Emily nodded, agreeing silently to the deal. She had every intention of staying alive – but now more so then ever.

. . .

**~*~ Profiler's Choice 2011 Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds Community ~*~**

**Hosted by ilovetvalot and tonnie2001969**

_It is our pleasure to announce the Second Annual Profiler's Choice Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds community! _

_The nomination ballot is now available, and all rules are posted on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum! Nomination ballots must be received by October 15, 2011 and must be sent to this PM at Profiler's Choice CM Awards. Fics for consideration must have appeared on the CM section of between September 1, 2010 and August 31, 2011 (see rules for full details.)_


	4. You Lose

**You Learn**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**I have a poll running on my profile - please vote.  
><strong>

**This is a little Emily centric idea I had while listening to the song 'You Learn' by Alanis Morisette. This is set during Season 6 Ep 18 'Lauren'. Sorry this is a lot shorter than normal, no excuses, needs must! **

**. . . **

**You Lose, You Learn**

**. . .**

Emily knew she needed to focus on the here and now. She couldn't think of what she had left behind if she was to win this battle. Emily couldn't face the thought of losing her family. It wasn't an option in her opinion.

Giving a firm shake of her head, Emily prepared herself to face him, the kryptonite to her superhero persona. Compartmentalising the last few weeks into neat packages Emily was as ready as she would ever be to face her nemisis and destroy him.

Striding out of the car she headed towards her target, mind set. This was it.

It all happened so quickly, one minute she was in control the next she was flat on her back, knocked for six after feeling the thud of the bullets hitting her vest. The chilling sound of Doyle's voice ringing in her ears;

"Hello love,"

Coughing, as she tried to get a full breath back in her burning lungs, it begun to register with her, this was what it felt like to lose. What a lesson to learn.

. . .

Emily waited; she had no choice seeing she was shackle to a chair. Every sense was on high alert, receptors tingling in preparation to respond to the slightest stimuli.

That was when she heard the faintest of footsteps approaching, _him_, Doyle_._ Breathing to steady her frayed nerves Emily proudly lifted her head. He may think he has won the battle, but she would fight to the very end. Surrender did not feature in her vocabulary.

As his hands snaked over her shoulder and around her neck, her skin crept at the unwanted touch. Feeling her hair flutter through his rough fingers, Emily concentrated on quelling the nauseous sensation in the pit of her stomach. Grimacing, instead she focused on his words, matching all he threw at her with her own smart retort. Anything to conceal the fear rising in her. Internally she prayed for the strength to take whatever he dealt, unfortunately she was more than aware of what he was capable of.

The pain was excruciating, but compounded by the smell of flesh burning – her flesh. No matter how hard she tried, a scream escaped, only increasing Doyle's pleasure. She could see the enjoyment in his piercing blue eyes; letting her know that this was only the beginning. There would be much more to come.

. . .

Emily gathered her strength, aware that another onslaught could come at anytime. He would attack again and again, until he wore her down. Only she knew how close he already was.

She was tired, physically and mentally. Emily hadn't slept properly for weeks, and when she had it had been filled with dreams, nightmares, of what had happened and what was to come. Doyle had haunted her day and night, and now she was in his hands.

Doyle spoke so softly, was so tender, in between the torture. Somehow his gentle touch made the pain all the worse. Emily knew he was playing games with her, trying to get in her head. If he could break her mentally, then she would be lost.

She had learnt a lot in the five years she had worked in the BAU, much more than Easter had ever managed to teach her. Emily started to try and second guess him, if she could only keep herself one step ahead then maybe, just maybe she could hold out long enough. After all had Garcia not told her they were coming?

Levelling her eyes to meet his crystal blue orbs, Emily slipped effortlessly into the role of Lauren Reynolds, after all that was who he wanted, who he wished to destroy.

The words tripped meaninglessly off her tongue, as they replayed that first conversation, Emily watched carefully for any sign that his defences were dropping, that her act was effective. Pushing him, she offered herself so willingly, but he wasn't fooled.

"You'll suffer the way I suffered," he promised.

Emily believed that with every fibre of her very being, fear began to engulf her as she observed the image on the laptop screen. Rossi and Seaver. She could no longer mask the emotions. Asking her to choose who lived and who died cut through her, sharper than any knife he owned.

She had run from her team to protect them, not to sit and choose between a man she considered among her mentors and the cadets she in turn mentored. There was no choice, still playing the game to protect her team she made the call.

"Fahey."

As she watched the death of the man she had just named, Emily hoped her team, her friends, her family, had got the information they needed from him. If not she was truly alone.

. . .

"Games over love, time for your last confession."

Doyle's words rung through her, chiming the hour of her death, so she had lost, he had beaten her.

. . .

**~*~ Profiler's Choice 2011 Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds Community ~*~**

**Hosted by ilovetvalot and tonnie2001969**

_It is our pleasure to announce the Second Annual Profiler's Choice Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds community! _

_The nomination ballot is now available, and all rules are posted on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum! Nomination ballots must be received by October 15, 2011 and must be sent to this PM at Profiler's Choice CM Awards. Fics for consideration must have appeared on the CM section of between September 1, 2010 and August 31, 2011 (see rules for full details.)_


	5. You Bleed

**You Learn**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**I have a poll running on my profile for a story suggestion - let me know what you think.  
><strong>

**This is a little Emily centric idea I had while listening to the song 'You Learn' by Alanis Morisette. This is set during Season 6 Ep 18 'Lauren' – some of the dialogue comes directly from the show. One more chapter after this - will post before Season 7 starts - promise.  
><strong>

**. . .**

**You Bleed, You Learn**

**. . .**

Emily's head collided with the wall with a dull thud, even though she had tried to fend the wall off with her cuffed hands. She had seen her chance and taken it. Bound to a chair Emily was totally under Doyle's control, but now she was free from the confines of the previous predicament.

Though her new situation brought its own dangers. Yes she may be more able to defend herself, even get an opportunity to attack, but equally Doyle was getting increasingly agitated. Emily knew only too well what that meant. In the time she had spent with him, as his supposed conspirator and lover, Emily had witnessed first-hand his approach to dealing with those who had deceived him.

Emily had seen a man twice her size quite literally beaten to death by Ian Doyle. His temper was notorious. It was one of the reasons so many remained so loyal to him. His charisma charmed them initially, once he was certain of their use and complete obedience, they were accepted. Then the mere threat of the full fury of Ian Doyle being released on them was enough to keep everyone in their place.

Emily hadn't been charmed, hell she'd charmed him, but she had proved herself useful, in more ways than one. He had accepted her, and now she was paying the price for her sins.

And that was what Doyle wanted right now, a confession of her sins, before he killed her.

Emily could feel his rancid breath on the back of her neck as she steadied herself for what she needed to do – but time that was rapidly running out. She had to stay alive. She would stay alive.

So Emily begun to tell Doyle what he wanted to hear. Tell him what had happened to his son, Declan Jones. That was until he silenced her with by whipping his gun across her face.

Dumped ungraciously on the concrete floor, Emily wiped at the fresh blood pouring from her nose. Looking down at the deep red sticky stain, she accepted that this was only the start; more blood would be shed before this was over. She just hoped it wasn't hers.

Doyle dragged her back up against the rough wall, threatening her with the gun, willing her to confess.

What did she need to confess? She had done nothing wrong. She had done her job, and some. She had rescued a young boy from a life of corruption and danger. NO, she would not confess.

Not even when he hurtled her into the shelving unit, who's contents clattered around her as she joined them on the floor, again.

However, even now bloodied and bruised Emily continued to taunt him with stories of what she had done with his son. She knew it was a dangerous game she was playing, but wasn't that why she got the assignment in the first place, because she played to win, not matter what it cost her.

As his foot made contact with her abdomen, the pain ricocheted through her body. Yet still she teased, letting him know that she had kept Declan alive and safe. Safe from everyone, Doyle included. It was then that she briefly saw that flick of emotion in his searching eyes. Emily had given him the hope he had lost, but equally hurt him more than any of his Korean torturers' had in the seven years they held him captive. A sentiment he confirmed with another hefty kick to the stomach.

Emily tried to explain her reasoning. Wanting him to understand her actions were for Declan. She didn't do it to piss Doyle off; she did it to protect the innocence of a child. A child that never chose to be born to a murderous father. A child that had no concept of the expectations that would be placed on him in the future.

As Doyle's callous fingers entwined in her matted hair, the sharp pain racked her skull. She needed to make her move, to catch him unaware. Which she did, sending his gun gliding across the floor, out of the reach of both of them. Wrapping her handcuffed arms around his neck, Emily finally managed to gain some control in the situation.

"I beat you Ian Doyle, before you even got out of North Korea. I beat you!"

By giving Declan Jones his life back, Emily knew she had destroyed the small, slightly human part that resided in Doyle. His son had been the only think he had loved, protected and adored. Declan Jones was Ian Doyle's life, and now the child had a life his own.

Attempting to strangle the very breath from Ian Doyle's body, the battle continued. Emily pulling on every reserve of strength and courage she possessed. Then . . . darkness sunk around them; the sudden lack of light startling them both, giving Doyle the opportunity to catch Emily off balance. Standing, he knocked Emily back into a table.

The explosive force of the two landing on it caused the table to fracture. Both were oblivious as they continued to struggle. Renewed energy surged through Emily's body; they were here, they had found her. Garcia was right; she could hear them metaphorically calling her name.

Having overpowered Doyle, Emily grabbed the first thing that came to hand; hitting him, again and again. Literally fighting for her life – they were too close for her to give up now. Sensing the stillness of the man below her, Emily dropped the splintered wood.

The very same wood, that Doyle impaled her on. She had stopped too soon.

. . .

"I've got her."

Emily recognised Morgan's deep baritone voice calling through the darkness. She could hear the sense of urgency in its tone.

Fluttering her eyes open, Emily looked up at her partner.

"Let me go," she whispered, ready to face the end.

But she should have known the determination that was Derek Morgan would not give in that easily. Squeezing his hand to let him know she was still listening he stayed with her a long as he could. Not wanting to let go. Needing her to know she was no longer alone in that dark place. They had found her in time.

. . .

**~*~ Profiler's Choice 2011 Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds Community ~*~**

**Hosted by ilovetvalot and tonnie2001969**

_It is our pleasure to announce the Second Annual Profiler's Choice Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds community! _

_The nomination ballot is now available, and all rules are posted on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum! Nomination ballots must be received by October 15, 2011 and must be sent to this PM at Profiler's Choice CM Awards. Fics for consideration must have appeared on the CM section of between September 1, 2010 and August 31, 2011 (see rules for full details.)_


	6. You Scream

**You Learn**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**I have a poll on my profile for a future story – please vote.`**

**This is a little Emily centric idea I had while listening to the song 'You Learn' by Alanis Morisette. **

**. . .**

**You Scream, You Learn**

**. . .**

Sat alone in the dank apartment, that was currently the poor excuse for a home, Emily wanted to scream. She wanted to holler at the top of her voice and not stop until someone took notice. Then again the whole point of her isolation was total anonymity, people were not supposed to take notice of her. She was meant to fit in, blend in might be a better description; to come and go, invisible to those around her.

Immediately after someone showed an interest in her, asking more than the time of day, it was time to move. Pack up the meagre set of belongs and disappear.

In the months since her discharge from hospital, she had become apt at total daily camouflage. She was the blank stranger you're never sure if you actually sure you saw. The willowy woman that there is something vaguely familiar about, but then she looks so like the next it can only be an uncanny similarity. She was no-one.

Now, in the squalid little corner of abysmal lounge of her current accommodation, Emily wanted only one thing. She wanted her life back.

In a matter of weeks she would be forty-one. A year ago her biggest fear was facing her mother's forked tongue. Now one mistake could cost her what was left of her life. Emily Prentiss was officially dead, even her friends and family were convinced she was six feet under. She may be breathing, but she wasn't living.

Thinking of those grieving friends, she tried to imagine how her BAU family were. How Hotch and JJ were coping with lying to protect her, how the other dealt with the news that in their eyes they'd failed. _How could she hurt those she loved?_

Letting the tears flow, Emily begun to wonder if she would ever run out of tears, she swore she had cried more in the last few months then she had in the whole forty years previous. She was no longer capable of ending a day without a tear.

She cried for all she had lost. By protecting her family she had lost them. By fighting she had lost her life.

The bleeding may have stopped, but not from her heart. That continued; the invisible wound that no doctor could heal, no medicine to remedy.

Opening her mouth wide Emily screamed, silently, as she now lived a silent life.

. . .

**~*~ Profiler's Choice 2011 Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds Community ~*~**

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_It is our pleasure to announce the Second Annual Profiler's Choice Fanfic Awards for the Criminal Minds community! _

_The nomination ballot is now available, and all rules are posted on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum! Nomination ballots must be received by October 15, 2011 and must be sent to this PM at Profiler's Choice CM Awards. Fics for consideration must have appeared on the CM section of between September 1, 2010 and August 31, 2011 (see rules for full details.)_


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